


The Finest Cuts

by DarlingCera



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Sugar Daddy, Will becomes a kept man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingCera/pseuds/DarlingCera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has knows that the meat is most tender if the animal is contented when it's slaughtered. He wonders if this holds true for humans, particularly Will Graham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Classical music floated around the dining room as the lone doctor sat at his dining room table. It was dinner for one tonight, and even though he was alone, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t special. Each meal was meant to be enjoyed, it was a presentation, a show, and just like a night at the opera, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was not afraid to enjoy it alone. There were no microwaved dinners on the sofa in front of the evening news in this house. Though he occasionally grew tired of being alone, and thus began his contemplation of ways to remedy that loneliness.

The idea came to him as he rubbed seasoning on a hunk of luscious meat from the thigh of a man out of his rolodex of people who didn’t deserve any less than being killed and cooked into dinner , or breakfast , or even the occasional lunch, kept in an insulated lunch box and brought to Hannibal’s office. 

It had started out as completely random, almost an intrusive thought. As he rubbed his own special blend of spices into the meat, taking particular care that each detail was perfect, he imagined, briefly, taking care of someone in that same, delicate manner. 

Hannibal thought more about it as he sat down with his meat and roasted vegetables and a glass of red wine. He knew, from his culinary experience, that an animal that had died happy and had lived a comfortable life was bound to be tenderer and of a higher quality than animals raised in close quarters and quickly slaughtered. If he could personally oversee the care and keeping of someone that he would kill as gently as possible. Farming people had occurred to him on more than one occasion, but it was much too gruesome of an idea, since it would involve kidnapping, and possibly hiding people in sheds or his basement. All and all it required too much effort, much more planning and the possible ruin of his pristine basement. Dr. Hannibal Lecter was far too busy for that. 

He finished his dinner and went to clean up , still pondering on the idea of caring for someone long-term, purely for the sake of eating them later. It would have to be one person at a time. One person wouldn’t be suspicious and nobody would question it. He quickly pushed the thought of raising a child to slaughter out of his mind. Even he wouldn’t stoop that low, and the adoption process would take far too long. 

Then as he put away the last of his clean dishes, the right idea struck him and he knew that it was the right course of action. It was so simple that he was surprised that it wasn’t his first thought. “ A lover” he thought. It was the obvious solution; a lover wouldn’t question why Hannibal was spoiling them, or cooking them dinners, or massaging their backs and thighs before crawling under soft down comforters with them. 

Now, it was only a matter of who. 

Will Graham was at his own home, dogs crowding around his feet as he cut into a frozen pizza that had just emerged from the oven. 

“You guys are terrible.” He said, placing two slices on a paper plate and moving through the small crowd and into the living room where two of the smaller dogs immediately jumped on the couch, knowing that was where their owner and his pizza would be sitting. 

“C’mon. Get down.” He said, shooing them with his free hand . The dogs reluctantly went to the floor and Will sat down, picking up the tv remote. He absently flipped through the TV channels, settling on something about space, and all of its’ unsolved mysteries. He didn’t care, it was a break from the murder and mutilation that constantly tore through his days and into his nights. 

He ate in silence, ignoring the dogs as they sat on the floor in front of the sofa and begged. He had fed them all their dinner as soon as he had come home, but dog food was nothing compared to the heavy aroma of melting cheese and pepperonis. “Hannibal Lecter wouldn’t even feed this to his dogs, if he had any” He said, taking another bite of the store-brand pie. 

When he was done, the rest of the pizza went back into the fridge, much to the dismay of the pack of craving canines. 

Will shut the door to the small bathroom. He turned on the shower and stripped as he waited for the water to get hot, leaving his glasses on the small counter space by the sink. He climbed over the edge of the bath tub and let the hot water come down, reddening his skin and relaxing his tense shoulders. 

In these moments that he was supposed to enjoy alone, he couldn’t help but feel a sinking loneliness in the pit of his stomach. It was a small feeling though, temporarily soothed by the company of his dogs or the few people he trusted, nothing to worry about or focus on remedying. 

It might be nice. Will thought To maybe have a girlfriend. Alana was a disaster, so maybe someone outside of work. He didn’t have time for that and Will quickly pushed the idea from his mind as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair. 

Getting out of the shower, Will wrapped the towel around his waist and brushed his teeth before heading back to his bedroom and changing into boxers and a tee shirt, deciding to put the whole thing out of his mind for the evening and get some rest. 

Meanwhile, at his own home, Hannibal Lecter couldn’t get one person off of his mind. One person that he knew would be easily manipulated because he was manipulating them already. While Hannibal was certain that he would be stubborn about a lot of things, mostly the part where he essentially became a kept man, it would be fairly easy to make a lover out of Will Graham. 

The next afternoon, he waited in his office, scrolling through tattle crime on his tablet, looking at the photographs and exaggerated reports of his most recent kill. He was waiting, waiting for the knock at the door that would signal Will Graham’s arrival. 

Will had come to Doctor Lecter’s office as soon as Jack Crawford had let him leave the morgue. He gave his usual quiet knock, and waited as he heard the sounds of Italian leather shoes tapping across the expanse of the office floor. Today was the day that the doctor’s plan would be set into motion, the day that he begun to raise the perfect pig to slaughter. 

Hannibal opened the door and discreetly looked Will over from the toes of his shoes to the top of his head. 

“Come in, Will.” He said, moving aside and holding the door open, taking in a whiff of that cheap cologne as his patient walked by. 

I’ll start with the cologne. Thought Hannibal as he closed the office door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is set prematurely into motion.

Will had taken his usual seat in Hannibal’s office, waiting patiently as Hannibal approached his own chair and sat down.

“I’d like to take our conversation in a different direction today, if you don’t mind.” Said the doctor as he pulled out a notepad and a fine fountain pen, Hannibal crossed his legs as he waited for Will’s answer. 

“What sort of direction are you talking about?” Will replied, knitting his brows together. 

“A more personal direction, I’d like to talk less about work for now, and focus more on your home life, even though sometimes it may seem that your work life bleeds profusely into your home life. And your life at home is just as, if not more important than your life at work” Hannibal knew all about Will’s nightmares, the sleep walking, waking up in strange places with no idea of how he got there. 

“What about it?” The profiler implored. He didn’t think he had much of a life outside of work , unless Hannibal was looking for an hour and a half long conversation about his dogs and frozen dinners on the couch. Really, his personal life included all of the same people that his work life did, and that thought hadn’t occurred to him until this moment. “I just want to know about it, to help me better understand you. Even if it’s just small talk, it’s still something.” Hannibal smiled a small, friendly smile. He needed to be subtle with Will, then grow bolder and gauge his patient’s responses along the way. 

“Alright, what do you want to know? It’s just me and my dogs, really. Sometimes my neighbors wave at me and I wave back at them, its all pretty boring if you ask me. My home life isn’t exciting enough to warrant a psychiatric field day.” Will shrugged. 

Hannibal took a few notes on his yellow legal pad. “Perhaps not, but do you ever consider seeking out friends outside of work? “ He asked, absently tapping the pen on the top of the pad. 

“Not really. “ Will looked up at the doctor. “I mean every once in a while I’ll get a call from an old college buddy, asking me how the FBI is treating me and all that, but none of them really care that much. They’re just calling because they’re bored or they want to go to a bar and get away from their wives and kids for a few hours.” 

Hannibal unfolded his legs then crossed the other one. “Is that so? Perhaps they do want to see you, to rekindle your old friendships, but you’ve put up such a block around yourself, and you’ve convinced yourself that nobody cares about your well-being. But that’s easy to understand since it would seem like those you work with, Jack Crawford in particular seem to have little regard for your health.” 

He was making himself look better now, more appealing than jack and whomever Will had taken up with in college. 

Will merely shrugged, this was getting too close to analysis for his tastes. 

“Have you ever considered allowing someone in, Will? Allowing someone to take care of you? To look after you even if it were only in minute ways?” The doctor asked, searching Will’s expression for any hint of consideration. 

Will remembered the night before, and how he had thought about how it would have been nice to have someone with two legs instead of four to keep him company. Perhaps someone who would have better food than frozen pizza ready for him when he came home, the thought made the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 

“There are many ways to meet people these days, Will.” Hannibal said “The internet has opened up a wide range of possibilities, there isn’t as much hanging around bars as there used to be. But it does have it’s drawbacks.” 

“Like creeps and perverts.” Will huffed. 

“Perhaps you should get to know your neighbors better, strike up a conversation.” Will seemed unperturbed by that suggestion, shrugging a little at the idea. “Have you thought of finding a lover?” The doctor suggested. 

“No, the idea hadn’t occurred to me since the whole thing with Alana exploded on me.” Will liked the idea of having that kind of relationship again, but he knew it would just end for one reason or another, more than likely because he was so busy with work. 

“Well, things like that happen, Will, perhaps when enough time has passed, you should give it another try. The right person could be waiting for you right now and you would never even know it.” Hannibal smiled again at Will, this smile was a little slyer than the last and he was certain that Will would at least consider the idea of dating again. Once Will became open to the idea of at least going on a date with someone, he would begin to make things more personal. Slowly persuading Will into the idea of being with him. 

“I guess. Maybe that’s what I’ll work on during the rare moments when I’m not standing over a body that’s growing an entire mushroom farm or whatever the ripper decides to throw at me” Will wasn’t convinced. Not yet. 

He stared back at Hannibal’s sharp features, wondering what sort of bullshit he had planned next. “So what do you suggest I do? Go to speed dating? Get an e-harmony profile? Is this really relevant to my therapy at all?” His eyes were narrowed. 

“No, Will I’m not saying that you have to go to those sorts of measures to find companion ship. And I’m not saying that you absolutely must find companionship if you don’t think it will help you, though I would like you to at least make an effort to leave your comfort zone, if only for one night.” He wondered briefly what to do next. Their time was running out quickly and he had yet to figure out a way to start luring Will in. 

Perhaps a taste of what things could be would entice him. 

Will was quiet , considering everything Hannibal had said. 

The cannibal looked over at his patient, studying him momentarily before making him an offer. 

“Will, I’d like to invite you to dinner at my home, just us.” He said. 

“Just us? That sounds an awful lot like a date, doctor. Isn’t there some rule about not dating your patients?” Will’s tone was biting and a little caustic. “No, Will, not as a date, because there are rules regarding that sort of thing.” Hannibal said. 

“When?” Will replied 

“Whenever you like.” Hannibal’s tone was smooth and relaxed. 

“Alright, then, how about never?” Will said, looking at the clock as he got up from his chair and headed for the door. 

_“This should prove much more difficult than I initially thought.”_ Hannibal thought to himself as Will left the office.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's makes an interesting realization at his one-on-one birthday dinner with Hannibal.

Will had just returned home from a crime scene, he pushed his way through his pack of canines and up the stairs to get out of his filthy clothes.

He wasn’t sure how Hannibal did it, showing up to messy crime scenes in his expensive designer suits and his nice shoes without ever getting a drop of blood or ichor on his cuffs. Of course Will was never one for finery, choosing comfort over style more often than not. 

As he shed his grey flannel, he thought back to earlier that day. 

As Will had been leaving the morgue, Hannibal stopped him, gently taking his arm. 

“Have you considered my offer? I happen to know that you have a birthday coming up, ” He asked as Will turned around. 

“And?” Will replied. 

“Perhaps you would allow me to cook you a birthday dinner, If you didn’t have any other plans already.” The doctor looked affectionately at Will, but Will took it as a pitying gaze. 

However, he did not have any plans, and perhaps he would have liked some, but Hannibal Lecter was the last person he wanted to have plans with. 

“Alright, if you’ll stop asking afterwards.” Will finally agreed . 

Rude thought Hannibal, but he pushed it out of his mind. “Alright then, Saturday at eight.” Hannibal let Will go. 

“Saturday at eight.” Will said, turning to go out to the parking lot and head home. 

Hannibal, of course, had gone straight home to plan the meal. 

The day before Will’s birthday dinner, Hannibal licked his index finger before beginning to scroll through his wheeldex of possible meats carefully recalling each person’s body, the size and shape of their limbs , recalling any signs of disease on each person, finally selecting a cobbler who had tried to charge Hannibal more for a simple shoe repair. 

As Hannibal set out to kill Will’s birthday dinner, Will was at home laying across his couch in sweatpants and a tee shirt, his glasses cocked to the side, his hand absently stroking Winston’s ears. One of the smaller dogs laid across Will’s back, making his breath slightly labored from the surprisingly hefty weight of the animal. 

He fell asleep on the sofa that night, waking up in the wee hours of the morning to spend the last few hours before he needed to get up in his comfortable bed. 

He woke up and went back to work, though the poor, greedy cobbler was gone, he wouldn’t be found anywhere but on Hannibal Lecter’s fine china for quite some time. 

Once the man was properly cut and placed in air-tight freezer bags to prevent freezer burn, Hannibal picked up his wallet and the keys to the Bentley parked in the garage. 

The early afternoon sun shone pleasantly as he drove to a gourmet grocery store. 

Casually pushing a cart through the isles as though he hadn’t just killed a man, Hannibal selected his vegetables, carefully feeling each one and giving it a quick sniff before setting it down in the cart or placing it back in the pile. 

He picked up ingredients to make breads and desserts, carefully matching flavors and textures. 

Will Graham spent his birthday teaching in the morning, before being yanked from his classroom by an urgent stare from Jack Crawford as he loomed in the doorway. Will had let his students go and followed Jack to the morgue where Price had stumbled upon human remains in the latest victim’s stomach. They were still running the DNA, hoping to match it to earlier victims who had been discovered without limbs. 

“Thank God for those two. I really didn’t think they did much down here besides screw around.” Jack said, leading Will back out of the stark white room. 

“What about Katz?” Will asked. 

“I can’t lump her in with those two. She gets far more done on her own than Zeller and Price. Also, Happy birthday, Will.” 

Will smiled a weak smile and thanked Jack. 

“Do you have plans for it?” Jack asked, thinking he might not be completely opposed to running to the store and picking up a cake and having a quick office party, only because he was in the mood for a slice of cake and a cup of good coffee. 

“Hannibal is making me dinner. “ Will shrugged. 

For a moment, Jack was jealous that he wasn’t invited to this soiree, though he had a feeling that nobody else was either. 

“Well then, your birthday is in good hands, Will.” Jack said, patting Will on his back before letting him go. 

Will went back to work, coming in just in time for his next class. 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of grading papers and the occasional call from Jack or the team at the morgue, but finally, he was allowed to leave. 

Hannibal had kept his day open, except for two standing appointments he had in the morning. He had come home at noon made himself a light lunch. 

Then, after a short nap, he began to prepare the meal. 

He began with the dessert first. Cakes weren’t something that he did often, he was more fond of tarts and other smaller pastries that could be easily stuffed. Hannibal also wasn’t particularly fond of frosting. . But birthdays demanded cake and candles. 

He used a recipe on a yellowed card, his mother’s recipe for cakes. Combining eggs, flour, milk and the rest of the ingredients , pouring it into round pans with care, scraping every bit of batter from the bottom of the metal bowl. The cakes went into the oven, and Hannibal placed the lightly battered spoon in his mouth. The batter tasted like the few good memories he had of his childhood, though more often than not, Hannibal let Mischa have the spoon. Feeling just a bit melancholy, he pulled the spoon from his mouth and set it down in the bowl in the sink, filling it with water and changing piece playing on the speakers to something a tad more cheerful. 

Hannibal started marinating the meat, taking his own special blend of spices , herbs and oils and brushing it over the best cuts of meat from the cobbler. He allowed it to sit and soak up the seasoning. He kept cooking, preparing everything, making sure that every detail was accounted for. The table was set in the doctor’s best china, and a bottle of wine was chilled. The birthday cake had emerged earlier from the oven and had finally cooled enough to be frosted. Hannibal frosted it in a rich vanilla frosting, halving strawberries and arranging them in piped puffs of frosting. Finally, a glass bell was set atop the cake stand, and the whole thing was set in the middle of the kitchen counter, looking like a scene from a bakery window. 

Will was freshening up in the bathroom at the BAU, not that he felt that Hannibal deserved to see him looking anywhere close to his best. He splashed water on his face, tried to comb through his hair with his fingers and straightened out his outfit a little. Will plopped a mint onto his tongue and went to his car, making the drive to Hannibal’s in fair traffic for a Friday night. 

Hannibal was plating the last dish when Will knocked on the door. With long, even strides he moved from the kitchen to the front hall and opened the door. 

“Glad you could join me this evening, Will, and a very happy birthday to you. ” He said, stepping aside and motioning Will into his home. “Thanks. “ The profile muttered as he crossed the threshold. Will was always mildly astonished, and mildly repulsed by the finery of his therapist’s home. It was excessive, rich jewel tones and furniture that was worth more than Will made in a month in every room. 

They sat down to dinner, Will eating quietly, trying to avoid much conversation, allowing the music coming from the stereo to fill the silence between them. 

“Why didn’t you invite anyone else?” he asked, taking a bit of what he had been told was pork. 

“I didn’t think you would appreciate it. I know you don’t like parties, or being in a crowd.” That was a lie. Hannibal wanted Will all to himself . 

“Thank you for your consideration of my dislike of large crowds, but I thought there was something about this that was supposed to push me out of my comfort zone.” Will took a sip of his wine and leaned back in his chair. 

“No, Will, it’s not an exercise at all. I thought that you deserved something nice on your birthday. Everyone does. “ Will shrugged at this statement and allowed Hannibal to fill his glass again. 

They sat and talked while dinner settled in their stomachs. They talked about everything, Will was now drunk enough to talk a little more about his life. The dogs, all of the things they did, and his life as an adventurous little child. 

It finally bored Hannibal senseless. 

“I think it’s time for dessert.” He announced, getting up from the table with a contented sigh. He retreated into the kitchen and returned with the spectacular cake , a few little birthday candles and a neatly wrapped package. 

“You really didn’t have to” Will says as he eyes the package, wrapped in red paisley paper and topped with a bow that Hannibal probably tied himself. The man was a domestic god. 

“Oh but I wanted to” Said the cannibal, taking the lid off of the cake plate and inserting a few candles before striking a match and carefully lighting each one. 

Will cracked a half-smile, which didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Go ahead, make a wish.” Hannibal instructed, setting the package down and reaching for the cake knife on the table. 

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Will wished for someone to love. Someone to fall into bed with , someone to care for him. The candles were extinguished, and he carefully peeled the paper off of the package while Hannibal cut into the cake. 

It had some weight to it, and when the last of the paper was gone, Will was left with a fine men’s cologne that did not, in fact, have a ship on the bottle. 

“I can’t, this must have been really expensive.” He said, trying to hand back the package. 

“No, Will, I want you to have it. You deserve nice things.” Hannibal said, passing Will a piece of cake. Will picked up his fork, a sudden realization coming to him that perhaps this was some kind of set up. That Hannibal didn’t want just a doctor/patient relationship. He passed it off as bullshit, assuming it was just Hannibal’s overly polite way of telling Will that he smelled. But still, a lingering part of him wanted to see what would happen. 

“Well, in that case, thank you. “ He said, experimentally licking a bit of stray icing from the tip of his thumb. 

Hannibal smirked, sitting down to enjoy a slice of his own decadent creation. “You’re very welcome, Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! I've had a very busy week and I managed to make this chapter longer to make up for the absence.


	4. Chapter 4

Making a killer out of Will had been Hannibal’s plot all along, and it was proving much easier than making a lover out of him.

Almost a month had gone by, and he seemed to be getting nowhere. He analyzed everything Will did and said at their appointments. Every movement of his eyes, every hand gesture and every word was taken into account. Will genuinely didn’t seem to be picking up on any of the subtle hints that Hannibal was leaving gently at his feet. Hannibal decided that it was time to take on a bolder approach. Obviously, in matters such as these, subtlety was going to get him nowhere. 

Perhaps touch would be more encouraging, more obvious. Hannibal considered at the end of the day as they were parting ways after an extensive and exhausting investigation into another dead man arranged artfully in a fairly advanced state of decay. Unbeknownst to Will, he had consumed part of that man’s leg for his birthday dinner. As they were exchanging final words out side of the morgue, Hannibal reached out and patted Will’s shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Will” Hannibal said with the slightest hint of a smile. The key to the Bentley jangled softly against the key to Hannibal’s front door as they emerged from a dark coat pocket 

“Good night, Doctor Lecter” Will said, turning around and heading towards the opposite end of the parking lot. He could still feel Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder, and there was something eerie about it. The small, simple touch wouldn’t leave his mind through the rest of the ride home, the soft accented words replaying themselves in his ears like a stuck record. 

Will pushed it out of his mind with one great shove as soon as he walked through the front door, eagerly accepting the greetings from his small, furry family. He fed the dogs, then himself without a thought of Hannibal’s hand. The touch was only remembered when he laid himself down to sleep, the covers placing a comfortable weight on the shoulder that had only been momentarily patted. Will was nothing short of repulsed. Or at least that was what he was trying to be. There are worse things in the world, he told himself as his eyes closed and he rolled over to lay on his back. 

Hannibal noted Will’s reaction, a brief tensing of his shoulder muscles then what seemed to be a shudder as he walked away towards his own vehicle. He thought about it, processing the event on the drive home. 

The doctor focused on what to do next as he searched through his freezer for meals he had prepared in advance and froze for nights like these. A late night at the office was no excuse to eat garbage in his book. He heated the oven and inserted the pre-made lasagna for one into the oven, allowing himself to sit on the butchers block with a glass of wine as he waited, his stomach offering the occasional rumble. 

A plan began to form in his head, a plan that started out with directly telling Will what he wanted, and seeing what happened. He began considering all possible outcomes, Will telling him no, Will being utterly repulsed, or refusing on grounds of professionalism. A “yes” seemed like the least likely option, but a maybe could be swayed and a maybe was what Hannibal had the highest hopes for. 

He would persist in gently touching Will when he got the chance, but perhaps opening a more flirtatious dialogue between the two of them was in order. Of course it would be reserved for moments outside of work .There was no sense in disrupting Will’s train of thought when it needed to be at it’s sharpest. Therapy would be unprofessional, but it was one of the few times that he and Will would be alone and it was when Will was most prone to talking to him as freely as he could manage.   

On the morning of their next appointment, the sun shone in the sky, reflecting brightly off of the ever-present snow outside. Hannibal emerged from his home and pointed the little key remote at his car, turning on the heat from his doorway, his breath making little clouds of steam. He retreats into his warm house to get ready for the day ahead. Will was his third appointment, and the two before him would ,without a doubt, be the most boring part of his day. Hannibal can appreciate the monotony of people’s common problems, but not when he had much more important business to attend to and the minutes were dragging by. 

Later, Will wakes up in his bed from the suffocating grip of yet another nightmare. Cold sweat soaks his shirt and he realizes he has therapy today, then meetings with the evidence analysts and Jack Crawford. But he has plenty of time to get ready , and so he takes it, setting out with just enough time to make the drive. 

After his second patient of the morning leaves, Hannibal waits expectantly for the knock that he knew to be Will’s and when he finally hears it rapping against the heavy wooden dor, he flips the cover over his tablet and sets it in the top desk drawer before getting up and opening the door for his patient. 

The smell hit him as soon as he opened the door. A fragrant mix of all of Hannibal’s favorite scents had been hard to track down, but once he did he knew that Will had to have it. A fragrant and savory sauce on top of a perfect cut of pork. 

“You’re wearing the cologne I gave you.” He commented with a sly smirk. 

Will shrugged “It’d be rude not to use a gift, especially such a nice one.” Will remarked, taking his seat in his usual chair, his legs splayed out in front of him and his hands resting at the edge of the arm rests. He had to admit that the cologne had smelled lovely, and that he had taken the lid off of the bottle and taken a whiff at home. 

“It suits you. A masculine scent, yet not overpowering like what you wore before. It’s much more subtle, working with the heat of your skin and changing slightly thorough the day.” Hannibal took his seat across from will. 

Will decided to go out on a limb and just say it. The worst that Hannibal could say was no, and that wouldn’t even bother Will too much, he just wanted to quickly satisfy a curiosity. 

“You know nothing about subtle, Doctor Lecter.” Will said, a smile picking up at the corners of his mouth. 

“What do you mean, Will?” Hannibal asked, cocking his head to the side as he picked up a note pad from an end table to begin their session. 

“I mean you’re being quite the obvious flirt. What are you trying to rope me into Doctor? Do you think that you can pick my brain further by buttering me up?” Will’s expression was serious, but his tone was sarcastic. 

Hannibal looked over at Will, his expression a mix of amusement and slight disbelief. “Will, you’re being paranoid.” He began “Has it occurred to you that perhaps I was just being nice? Attempting to be a good friend? Perhaps even that I was merely flirting, attempting to express a romantic attraction in hopes of reciprocation?” He crossed his legs and gazed carefully at Will waiting for his response. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve got a crush on me? Because that’s certainly what it sounds like.” Will crossed his arms, closing himself off while he processed the information. 

“I wouldn’t call it a crush per-say , since we aren’t on the school yard. Though I wouldn’t object to taking you as a lover, I think it could be mutually beneficial.” Hannibal casually shrugged at Will’s statement. 

“And what benefits would those be?” Will implored, though he knew from basic psychology. 

“All of the usual benefits of lovers, lowered blood pressure, increased dopamine levels, overall comfort. Ease of sexual frustrations. The usual.” Hannibal replied. 

Will chuckled , gently shaking his head. 

Will thought about it, a small chuckle escaping his lips. Perhaps he could humor Hannibal for a little while, sit on his lap and nibble his ear if only to stave off his own loneliness. He was handsome, intelligent, and charismatic, like something out of a Harlequin novel. Perhaps getting into Lecter’s bed would be a good way to get into his head, to get the good doctor to let his guard down for a little while. 

Finally Will spoke “Alright, I’ll give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen? A little awkwardness?” His whole life was filled with awkwardness anyways, the odd looks from police officers at crime scenes, the people in the neighborhood who wondered if he really was cleaning up after all of those dogs that he walked in the morning, what would a little bit of post-breakup discomfort do? 

A little bit of awkwardness was not going to be the worst thing to happen to Will during the course of his romance with Hannibal Lecter. In fact, it was the least of his coming concerns.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal begins learning the art of caring for a specific type of livestock.

Will left that appointment and went into his meeting with Jack Crawford with humor in his voice and an invitation to Lecter’s home the following evening.   
The most recent body was confirmed to be the work of The Chesapeake Ripper. Will hadn’t had much doubt about it, even though there was always the slight suspicion that there could be a copycat on the loose. Usually that suspicion was quelled as soon as they got deeper into the crime scene, testing fibers and fluids, confirming that the work did, indeed, possess the finesse of The Ripper himself.

Will poured over the lab reports, taking extra looks at the evidence and tried to put the pieces together. Every kill from the ripper was a message and a gift. Graham sifted through the victim’s personal life, he had been a cobbler, he had been found without shoes on. Perhaps it was an insult to the man himself? Large portions of his legs were missing they had been cut away with a knife. Other than that, he seemed mostly intact. 

Hannibal had arrived later in the day after his first appointments. “Have you found anything yet?” He asked, sneaking up behind Will to get another whiff of the personally selected cologne. Will was examining the skin of the victim, which had been tanned into leather and sewn neatly back over the bones and dried-up organs. 

Will looked up from the skin sample under the microscope with a slight start. He hadn’t even heard Lecter’s footsteps on the tile floors. “The only thing I’ve found is that this guy seems to have way too much time on his hands.” Will sighed, gently pushing the microscope over to Hannibal, who peered into it and adjusted the focus. 

“How does anybody have the means to tan a full human skin without being caught?” Will looked over his notes. 

“Well, it would require a large tract of unpopulated land, either he lives on a farm or he has a place to which he can commute. This is likely the same place he’s completed all of his murders. "A workshop, per say. I doubt he would want to be keeping victims in his home.” Hannibal took his gaze away from the microscope and turned to Will. 

“As far as our talk earlier…” he said 

“What about it?” Will assumed that Hannibal was about to take back the whole thing. If he did, it wasn’t any skin off of Will’s nose. 

“We must remain quiet about it until the time is right, understood? We are crossing a multitude of professional boundaries in having an affair of this nature, and I would hate for you to lose your already fragile standing in the FBI, since without you I don’t think we’ll ever catch the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

“Don’t flatter me, doctor.” Will said, getting up to stretch. 

“Your specific gifts are integral to the investigation, don’t sell yourself short, Will.” Hannibal turned to watch Will stretch, finding the curve of his back as pleasing as the expression on his face. 

As the hours grew later and the day wore into evening, they worked to crack the case that seemed to be completely unsolvable. There were no new bodies, nothing had arrived from Zeller and Price all day. 

“Why don’t you come home with me, Will?” Hannibal asked, straightening his suit as he got up from the table. 

“Or you could come home with me, see how the other half lives.” Will smirked, still not entirely sold on the whole “lovers” thing, at least not enough to accept such an invitation without at least putting up some resistance. 

“I have seen how the other half lives, Will.” Hannibal sighed “But I’m sure your pack is hungry, perhaps you can come by later?” 

Once Will Graham was home, he was home. Fat chance of him driving out just to sit in Hannibal's gaudy house and eat his fancy food. 

“I’ll think about it.” Will said, picking up his bag. 

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” The doctor assured, taking his leave. 

Will went home and fed the dogs, resigning himself to the sofa with the now fed animals crowding around their leader. He flipped through the television channels, looking for something, anything to stimulate him in any way. 

All of it just made him wearier. 

Finally, he decided to give in. 

Will picked up the phone from the end table and dialed Hannibal’s number. Lecter picked up on the seventh ring, just before going to voice mail, letting Will wait for just a moment. Will imagined him taking something delicious out of the oven, only stopping to take the phone out of his pocket once he was sure the dish was ready. Hannibal actually was cooking dinner for two, thinking that if Will didn’t show up, he would have something left for tomorrow. A win-win situation. A smile crept over his lips as he removed an oven mitt and lifted the phone from his pants pocket. 

“Hello?” He said into the receiver. 

“Does your offer to come over still stand?” Will implored. 

Hannibal could hear the slight nervousness in Wills voice and it stirred a smugness in him that only came from a conquest such as this. 

“Of course, Will, my door is always open to you.” 

Will arrived,despite himself, appearing empty-handed just as Hannibal was starting the mashed potatoes. 

“It smells good in here.” Will noted as he entered the kitchen. 

Hannibal handed him a beer of his own personal brew and Will accepted, somewhat reluctantly. Alana had been right, it was possibly the best beer that Will had ever tasted, and he would drink until he was hammered if he knew that the doctor wouldn’t find that absolutely gauche. 

“So…” Will leaned over the counter, beer poised in his hand. 

“What are you cooking tonight?” 

“It’s a surprise.” Hannibal replied 

“What? Is it people?” Will snickered. 

“Actually, you would be surprised at the similarities between human flesh and pork.” Hannibal said as he elegantly tossed a vegetable stir fry on the stove. 

Will looked uncomfortable, and he kept his mouth shut for a moment as he watched Hannibal work. He seemed to prefer the doctor like this, when he was dressed down without the jacket and the tie. He seemed more approachable, and more likely to gently pick Will’s brain than prod it like he did in the office. Two steaks were resting on a plate on the counter and Will smiled. 

“You know, if I had left those steaks just sitting out like that, one of the bigger dogs would have snatched it up by now and there would be a feeding frenzy on my kitchen floor”. He chuckled, thinking of the canine swarm in his cheap linoleum kitchen. 

Hannibal plated the steaks onto two plates of vegetables and placed puffy dinner rolls next to clumps of thick mashed potatoes. A simple, yet elegant dinner for a Wednesday night. It was Hannibal’s idea of comfort food, something that Will would likely enjoy after a hard day at work. The doctor had taken to learning the comfort foods recently, and making them more elegant, improving presentation and preparation to give the dishes his own unique signature, aside from the secret ingredient, of course. 

Unbeknownst to the agent, it was all part of Hannibal’s plan. This dinner was one of many he planned to cook to put a little more meat on Will’s bones. After this, a cup of coffee in the living room and a trip up the stairs to Hannibal’s luxurious bed, if Will was willing, of course.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner went better than expected, and Hannibal is willing to push his luck a little further.

Dinner was a smooth affair. Will hadn’t even realized that he was ravenous until he sat down at the table and looked at his plate. 

By his third glass of wine, Will was definitely more relaxed than he usually was around Lecter, and the thought of getting up to move to the soft sofas in the sitting room. He sank into the cushions and looked around the room, breathing a heavy sigh as he leaned his head on the back of the couch.

This was an informal living room, or it was as informal as Hannibal Lecter could ever get. The sofa was made from rich, brown leather that made that leather sound when Will scooted on it, on the walls were nature photographs, flowers, mountains, a castle that looked like it was somewhere in Europe. There was no TV, or if there was it was likely stowed away in the big oak cabinet across the room. A dark, wood coffee table sat just far enough away that Will couldn’t prop his feet up on it. Not that he would, of course. He didn’t want to be rude.

This, Will decided, was as close to a “man cave” as Hannibal was capable of getting. It was so different from the parlor up front, with the antique furniture that Will was afraid to sit on, and assumed that everyone would be afraid to sit on unless they had furniture like that of their own.

Hannibal returned with two cups of coffee in his hands. He took the seat next to Will on a couch that was meant for three. They were close now, about a foot away from each other.   
Will didn’t have any words, and he felt like the situation didn’t need them. 

The night was growing later, and outside a heavy snow began to fall.

“Will.” Hannibal casually said as he set his mug down on the coffee table. 

“Hm?” Replied Graham. His eyes were heavy lidded, and his cup sat on the end table next to the sofa. His hands folded nearly over his full belly, and his breathing coming in even pulls. 

“The snow is quite heavy, perhaps you shouldn’t drive?” The doctor suggested. 

“If you want me to spend the night you should just ask and quit playing coy.” Will said with just the slightest slur to his words. 

“Perhaps I am both concerned about your driving and desiring for you to spend the night?” Hannibal attempted to sound casual but his words came out more like a question he would ask in a therapy session. 

Will half-smiled, letting himself relax further. 

“Alright, say we have a little slumber party. What are we going to do? Play truth or dare? Make some prank calls?” He laughed good-naturedly. 

Hannibal didn’t look particularly amused, and Will didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t sure what Hannibal’s “amused” face was and he didn’t particularly want to find out. 

“I can assure you that we will find something to make the long hours until morning pass.” Lecter’s voice was heavy with suggestion. 

“Alright, I’ll stay the night.” Will agreed, with far less resistance than he had planned on.

He sat with one leg tucked under the other, and Will hadn’t noticed Hannibal’s hand on his thigh. He looked down at the hand, it was a dexterous appendage, the hand of a surgeon and musician, the hand of an artist. He blinked a few times in rapid succession and looked up at the doctor. 

“Are you alright, Will?” he asked “Is this alright? Please tell me if I am making you uncomfortable.” Just the way Hannibal spoke made Will uncomfortable sometimes, and the hand suddenly didn’t bother him anymore.

“It’s fine”. Will said, the briefest of smiles appearing on his lips. 

The hand gently rubbed Will’s denim-clad thigh and gave it the slightest squeeze before the doctor spoke again. 

“Will, may I kiss you?” He inquired. 

Consent was integral to this entire process. He wanted Will to be at ease, to be happy and cared for, it would all be worth it once he was on Hannibal’s best china.   
Will was surprised when his first response was a definite yes that came out in the form of a not, a mumbled “mhm” and by his body scooting a few inches closer on the sofa.   
Hannibal’s lips were dry, and thin. They were vaguely warm and tasted like coffee. The kiss was so brief, that Will hardly noticed it happening at all until Hannibal was leaning in for another one.

The second kiss lasted longer, and Will was surprised that his heart was beating a little faster, that his hand was resting on the psychiatrist’s cheek, and that he was enjoying the whole thing. 

Will backed away just a little after they broke apart. 

Without thinking he uttered “That was nice.” 

That was nice. What was he? In high school?

“It was.” Lecter agreed. 

Will leaned in and claimed the next kiss, much to the surprise of Doctor Lecter.

The snow continued to fall as the hours grew later, and Will Graham grew sleepier. 

“I think it’s time to rest.” Said the doctor, getting up and stretching his back out. 

Will silently agreed. 

“Come join me upstairs.” Hannibal offered, untucking his shirt from his dark brown slacks, in a gesture that seemed meant for Will, that he wouldn't have dared do in front of anyone else. 

Now, perhaps Hannibal was moving too quickly. Will was about to offer to sleep on the couch that he was sitting on, but Hannibal stopped him before he could say anything else.   
“Just to sleep, I promise. Unless you would like more, I’m not opposed to spooning.” 

Lecter’s got jokes now, jokes that aren’t about eating people. Will thought, until he realized that Hannibal was being entirely serious. Suddenly, Will recalled thinking of his longing for touch that had kept him up in the nights previous.

“Alright.” Will agreed and extracted himself from the sofa. He followed Hannibal upstairs to the lavish bedroom that he had not seen before. The bed was large enough for two to sleep without ever touching once. Hannibal tossed Will a pair of silk pajama pants.

“Actually…I uh I feel more comfortable in my boxers and undershirt, if you don’t mind.” He said, gently handing the pants pack.

“Of course.” Hannibal wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing, but Will’s comfort was all part of the plan, as he kept reminding himself. Hannibal changed, his back turned to Will, before he climbed into bed.

Somewhat nervously, Will followed, hesitantly scooting close to the doctor, who met him half way in the middle of the luxurious mattress. 

Will rolled over so that he faced opposite of Hannibal, The doctor pulled him close against his warm, bare chest. The comfort of the embrace surprised Will, who was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep whether he was here or at home.

“Goodnight, Will.” Hannibal muttered against the fabric on Will’s shoulder. 

“Goodnight.” Will muttered, as his sleepy eyes fell shut. 

Much to Will’s surprise, he slept, thanks to just a few special herbs mixed into his coffee and a little wine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set about a month after the last chapter.   
> Will and Hannibal are finally alone after a dinner party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have 2 chapters in 24 hours to make up for me not updating this fic in 8 moths. But I'm sure nobody gives a shit. Have 1.5k worlds of quality garbage with some naked stuff.

Will woke up to an empty bed.

He sat up and put on his glasses before he looked around Hannibal’s plush bedroom. He spots his clothes neatly folded on a parson’s chair when he swears that he just threw them on the floor the night before. Hannibal was not a man to leave clothes unfolded, even if they were ratty jeans and a faded button down. 

Will begrudgingly got up from the soft, but sturdy, mattress and picked up his clothes, which had, much to his surprise been washed. He wondered how late it was, and just when Hannibal had gotten up. He got dressed and pushed his feet into his shoes, which were at the foot of the chair. 

Downstairs, he found a covered plate , a carafe full of still-hot coffee and a note from Hannibal.

_Will,_

_I had a wonderful time last night, we should do it again sometime._

_-Hannibal_

He found the doctor’s handwriting to be too neat, and pretentious. The use of his first name only was a poor attempt at being casual. Will stuffed the note in his pocket anyway, He sat down on one of the barstools by the counter and removed the foil from the plate. The eggs and sausage were still hot, so Hannibal couldn’t have left too long ago. He ate quickly, pouring himself a cup of coffee and chugging it down before heading out to his car.

He checked the garage before he left, the Bently was gone. He grabbed his own keys from the bowl by the door where he had left them the night before. The sky had cleared up, reflecting brightly off of the snow that seemed to cover everything. 

Will’s car, thankfully, started with ease and he drove home to shower and be with the dogs. On the road, his mind drifted back to the previous night, and the way that Hannibal had kissed him. He touched a finger to his lips and tried not to think about how he had enjoyed it as he sat at a traffic light. 

When he got home, he was greeted to the excited cacophony of whines and barks, which made him feel normal, and less like he could get used to living in the lap of luxury like he had experienced the night before. 

Despite the way they behaved behind closed doors, Hannibal remained completely discreet around everyone else and it had been that way for almost a month now, even at a dinner party where the entire team showed up to wine and dine. This went on for months, and at each dinner party, Hannibal envisioned offering his deepest condolences at Will’s disappearance as his guests ate forkfuls of Will Graham. That fantasy grew old quickly. Instead, Hannibal decided that he would much rather have all of Will for himself. He wanted to taste the differences in the organs, and savor the unique flavor of every body part. Thinking about it as he washed his fine china gave the doctor the most satisfying chills.

Will thought he saw Hannibal shudder and he stopped wiping the counter for a moment before resuming, deciding not to inquire further. He probably didn’t want to know.   
He leaned on the clean counter as he watched Hannibal dry off the last of his delicate wine glasses. The doctor turned to him.

“Did you bring a change of clothes?” he asked. Will had taken to bringing an overnight bag and leaving it in his car whenever he was invited over.

“Yeah.” He answered. 

“Bring them upstairs, I’ll draw a bath.” 

Will, caught off guard, turned red. He went out to his car and returned with his overnight back stuffed with hastily thrown in clothes, and his toothbrush. He kicked his shoes off by the front door and padded up the stairs to the master bedroom, where he could hear the water running in the claw-foot tub. 

The smell of soap and lavender hit him when he entered the bathroom after setting his bag of clothes down near the foot of the bed. Hannibal had removed his tie and suit jacket, and was unbuttoning his shirt. Will thought about saying no, about leaving, but part of him told him to stay, that he wanted to. He decided to listen to the part that told him to stay, he unbuttoned his own shirt and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the ground.   
He couldn’t avert his eyes from the doctor, who was fit, but definitely just the slightest bit soft in the middle. Will couldn’t blame him, anyone who ate like he did would be. Will had even noticed that he had put on a few pounds recently. 

He didn’t look away when Hannibal completely undressed and sank into the water. Instead Will quickly plucked the socks from his feet and removed his pants before sinking down into the hot water. It had been ages since Will had taken anything more than a quick shower, and he wasn’t surprised to find himself completely melting when Hannibal’s hands began to work at the knots in Will’s shoulders. He closed his eyes and savored the skilled hands working out the kinks in his back.

Will’s breath hitched when he felt lips on his neck, his back arched just slightly when he felt thumbs rubbing circles in his lower back. He let Hannibal wash him, covering his skin in the soap that smelled so heavily of lavender, he let himself be kissed everywhere that could be reached from the position they were in until he was sure that he had become as liquid as the water. 

They did have to get out some time. Will got up, one of his legs was asleep from the way he had been sitting in the tub. Hannibal handed him a towel, which wrapped around his waist. He could sleep after this. 

“Go lay down, don’t get dressed.” Hannibal instructed, Will knew he could say no at any time, but he was entirely willing, at this point to see exactly how far things would go tonight.

Will made himself comfortable on the bed, slipping under the covers and relishing the feeling of silk sheets on his bare skin. He didn’t close his eyes, he knew they wouldn’t open again until morning if he did. He thought about the massaging, the kisses on his neck and soon he was fighting the urge to grind against the silk sheets.   
Will felt the mattress dip when Hannibal came back, and he heard what sounded like the lid of a jar being unscrewed He peeked up from his face down position and saw the words “Coconut oil” in looping writing on the jar’s label. Lecter had a clump of the white stuff on his hands and Will wondered what he was going to do with that. He found out when the covers were pulled back and substance was massaged by warm hands into the skin of his back, then down to his ass and inner thighs. He let the slightest whimper slip when he felt Lecter’s fingers on the tops of his inner thighs. 

“Relax, Will.” Hannibal muttered quietly. 

“I’m not sure I could get any more relaxed.” He replied, trying to keep his hips still because he was craving more friction. 

His breathing became less erratic when the oil-slick hands moved down to his calves and his ankles and finally to his feet. Will swallowed hard when he was rolled over, his nerves were on fire but he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t comment at the smirk on Hannibal’s face when he looked over Will’s body, eyes locking for a moment on the erection that had just hit a blast of cold air. Instead Will closed his eyes as the oil worked down He was a little disappointed that Hannibal’s hands didn’t stop on what the doctor had been so obviously admiring a few moments before. 

Once the massage had worked its way down and back up to Will’s crotch, he realized that Hannibal had been waiting for the right moment. 

“Are you going to…?” Will trailed off.

“I can.” Hannibal replied 

“Please do.” Will shut his eyes as the oil-slick hands worked him, stroking slowly then picking up a quicker pace when Will began to tighten up, his hips lifting off the bed in search of more contact. He was being worked with both hands, one stroking his length, the other gently pressing on his perineum, Will’s moans were soft and breathy, and they came out faster as he reached his end.

Hannibal cleaned the mess off of his hands and laid down next to Will who was now half asleep. He pulled the covers over them and gathered the agent into his arms. 

Everything was going exactly as he had hoped.


End file.
